


Stepping Up The Game

by CJaneway



Series: McHanzo One-shot Kink Stories [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Jesse McCree, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Hair-pulling, Leather Kink, M/M, Pet Names, Rough Oral Sex, Safewords, Stepping, Trampling, submissive Hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 20:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJaneway/pseuds/CJaneway
Summary: Hanzo likes to get stepped on, in a sexual way. Jesse wears booty shorts and a crop top to go with that muffin-top and obliges.





	Stepping Up The Game

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back at it with the kink exploration! I came over the trampling kink and thought it was great! I wasn't too big of a fan of the shoe thing, but the bare feet trampling looked like it could totally be done. So I tried - if you're a trampling kinkster, do give me feedback so I can know if you feel I represented your kink well :D Also I snuck in some daddy kink, foot fetishism, leather kink and degradation kink. Also hair-pulling and rough blow-jobs. Hanzo loves being fucked up.
> 
> I've had people ask me to put more into this collection, this one wasn't that long, but that was because this kink is really unfamiliar to me, and I wanted to go for quality, not quantity. I hope that came across. 
> 
> Have a nice time!
> 
> Edit: MIRACULOUSLY the crop top changed colors from purple to a washed out red, so we changed it to red in the first place :P sorry, this is what I get for not beta reading my shit.

“Say darlin’, I bought a little surprise fer us” were the words Jesse substituted his usual greeting with. The cowboy had taken Lena and Hana down to Gibraltar proper to access the post office, shop for the base, with a strict shopping list which was now being double checked by Angela. Lena and Hana had taken the opportunity to stock up on personals, but everything Jesse needed was in the parcel he had picked up at the post office.

“Is it kinky?” Hanzo glanced up from the reports he were reviewing, reading glasses perched low on his nose. He’d not complained much, as being long sighted wasn’t too horrifying for a sniper, but Mercy had ordered him a few sets of near indestructible reading glasses for missions anyway. Jesse loved giving Hanzo facials when he wore glasses – it gave the pretty picture that extra edge and helped Hanzo feel secure in his desirability besides.

“It’s definitely kinky.” Jesse said with a broad smile playing about his lips. Hanzo immediately took his glasses off and put down his data-pad; whenever his man had surprises like this it was always worth giving all his attention.

“Did you blow a good chunk of our spending money for this month on it?” Was the next question, though it was good-natured – Overwatch provided all necessities, and people who could would pool some money in each month for a team wide party, which was usually held for whoever was on base the last weekend of the month, so money really wasn’t an issue. Hanzo just loved messing with his tubby hairy hubby, and Jesse loved being messed with.

“Oh, absolutely.” Came the absolutely shameless reply. Because Jesse knew _exactly_ when his marshmallow-hearted husbando joking.    

“Shameless cowboy.” Hanzo purred as he got up to give Jesse a welcome home kiss.

“You’re wrong, darlin’, I’m _your_ shameless cowboy. S’ important to be clear when ya speak.” Jesse corrected and pecked Hanzo right back.

“Says the man who said something to the effect of “well, butter my melon and call me a yankee” in a sentence unironically yesterday.” Hanzo parried as he gently extracted the parcel from Jesses arms.

“It was perfectly warranted.” Jesse claimed, valiantly.

“Yet I heard the tortured screams of people trying to learn English across the world.” Hanzo concluded. Hanzo himself had English as a second language, and he’d struggled for years with slang and colloquialisms and which countries they belonged to; he’d gone through both an English, and American and an Indian English teacher before he felt somewhat comfortable with the language as a whole. English was a mess, in his honest opinion. Of course, Jesse had shown up in his life, welcomed and wanted, and bi-lingual by way of English and Spanish, with a southern twist, and it had turned Hanzo’s view of his English skills on their head. Hanzo had still taken the phrase “just about as useless as tits on a tree” under his wing – for research purposes.

“English ain’t that hard, darlin. Now open up the prezzie.” Jesse coaxed excitedly. Hanzo gave him a flat look that bellied a lot of inconsiderate words but moved to open the parcel anyway.

Under the layers of cardboard, protective casing and tape he found a sleek looking white box with gold lettering; _Leatherix_. It was a toss-up: both of them liked leather while Jesse alone was a latex fiend. Hanzo wondered who would be wearing whatever was within the box. He shoved the wrapping aside and went over to the bed, sat down and placed the luxurious packaging on his lap. Even opening the box was satisfaction, as the lid glided, perfectly, from the bottom by lifting it, and Hanzo reveled in it as the bottom of the box plopped onto his thighs. Leatherix was always luscious from start to finish, and both Jesse and Hanzo had respectable collections from the brand. Jesse sat down beside his husband and slid his arm around the archer as Hanzo put the lid aside.

“What is the occasion?” Hanzo said breathlessly as he reached down and pulled up a sturdy leather harness with what looked like arm and thigh bindings attached to it as well; no ankles – it was probably for Hanzo.

“Well, our anniversary is comin’ up and we haven’t played in a few weeks, but mostly I just want to step on your pretty lil’ self with you decked out in leather.” Jesse answered as he nuzzled Hanzo’s neck. The archer straightened up, immediately, and his blood rushed downwards by the words alone.

“Most agreeable.” Hanzo choked out as he tilted his head to make room for his Husbands nuzzles and kisses. The harness was gorgeous; a deep blue leather with what looked like copper imitation rings, and the straps were wide with delicate stitching – it would probably be a marvel to wear.

“Daddy wants to step all over his pretty lil’ husband.” Jesse rumbled, muffled by Hanzo’s skin. The archer _melted_ into Jesse, soft and pliant.

“Please tell me we have nothing scheduled for the rest of the day.” Hanzo demanded softly.

“We ain’t got nuthin.” Jesse imparted before kissing below Hanzo’s jaw. “Y’ wanna do it now?” it sounded surprised, almost. Hanzo scoffed good-naturedly.

“What a question, cowboy.” Hanzo leered at his husband, “your _little husband_ wants to have _daddy’s_ feet stepping all over him.” Hanzo purred as he swung around and settled himself on Jesse’s lap, dragging the man into a deep kiss.

“Well hell, sweetheart, I ain’t complainin’.” Jesse chuckled when their lips finally parted. “Get of my lap, baby, Lemmie go gussie up mah feet and you can get into your harness.”

“Don’t wash them.” Hanzo reminded as he moved off Jesses lap.

“I won’t, honeybee, I’m just trimming the nails and removing sock-lint.” Jesse confirmed.

“Put on your denim booty shorts and the red crop-top too.” Hanzo demanded, with another kiss.

“Demandin’ little sugarcane, aren’t we?” Jesse chuckled and swatted at Hanzo’s ass. “As my lil’ prince wishes.” He acquiesced with an exaggerated bow. Hanzo loved watching Jesse’s hairy, fleshy body in booty shorts – his ass looked fantastic, and his beer gut and muffin top made Hanzo want to squeeze it until it bruised. The archer loved that his husband was so big and strong, yet so soft at the same time. And those thick thigs were a wonder of the world, but no one would ever touch them, no one but Hanzo, he would kill them all if they tried.

Jesse wandered off into the bathroom, collecting his clothes on the way, while Hanzo prepped the room. Mostly it involved clearing a space on the floor, sweeping over it to collect whatever debris that might have accumulated since they vacuumed last, setting out a chair Jesse and laying down a pillow, just in case. The chair was essential, as Jesse was, easily, two-hundred pounds, and for the more sensitive areas Hanzo liked to get trampled on, it was safer for them both if Jesse could distribute his weight by sitting to avoid grave harm. Hanzo squirmed at the thought of those big hairy feet pressing down on his dick, on his face, and hurried to get things done so he could start putting on the harness.

Leatherix always delivered. This was probably a custom order, Hanzo surmised, as a lot of kits came with restraints for the ankles, too, but Jesse liked to take off Hanzo’s prosthetics when he took control, give his little princely legs some good rest, and Hanzo loved it. It was nice to have someone you trusted enough to be completely vulnerable with – and being legless was definitely vulnerability at it’s finest. Combine that with having two hundred pounds of tanned, sexy cowboy pressing down on you and Hanzo was a trusting, leaky mess.

The harness was a marvel. After Hanzo slid out of his civvies and lifted up the beautiful piece, loosening the fastenings and stepping into it. The thigh straps went around the thickest parts of the limbs, with another set of straps going around closer to his groin, they were connected with a long thick strip going on the outside of each leg, which connected to a copper ring which then lead to the waist belt with straps that could be tightened to pull his thighs up - glorious. The waist belt was thicker than most of the straps. It sat beautifully under his ribcage, accentuating his figure. From the waist up the harness crossed over his shoulders, back down to connect with the waist belt, as well as out to the arm circlets. Hanzo felt beautiful. It was just his color.

“Damn you look good,” Jesse came back, wearing the outfit Hanzo had specified. The crop-top was a faded read t-shirt Jesse had chopped up on a hot day, and those booty shorts looked sinful, trying their best to contain those thundering thighs.

“As do you.” Hanzo replied, swallowing saliva that was gathering in his mouth at the sight of his delectable husband. Jesse crossed the room and scooped his beloved into his arms and initiated a sweet brush of lips.

“Safe-word check, darlin’.” Jesse insisted.

“Yes, daddy.” Hanzo answered, already sinking into the fuzzy comforts of being under Jesse’s tender mercies.

“Aww, sweet prince,” Jesse crooned “what do you say when you need daddy to end the scene?” The cowboy brushed a stray hair that had wormed its way out of Hanzo’s ponytail behind the archer’s ear.

“Red, daddy.” Hanzo’s voice always lightened, got breathier, like the weight that held him down to respectability moved away, even from his voice.

“Good boy – if you need daddy to pause?”

“Yellow, daddy!” Hanzo had wound his arms around Jesse’s waist and was leaning against his husband.

“And if you’re good to go, honeybun?” Jesse gently massaged the back of Hanzo’s neck as he asked.

“Green, daddy.” Hanzo was drifting off nicely already. They’d been together, played together, so long now that their dynamic was close to flawless, and both of them drifted into their roles easy as pie, most days, but it was still nice to do a safe-word check. It was a big part of their foundation.

“And now, baby, what color are you?” Jesse pressed Hanzo close and used a little extra strength when he hugged him – the rings on the harness digging into both of them.

“Green!” Hanzo breathed.

“Okay lil’ princeling, let’s get you down on the floor.” Jesse was strong indeed, Hanzo thought faintly, as he gently picked up Hanzo and laid him out on the floor beside the chair, watching out for Hanzo’s head as the archer was laid out like a mural. He then reached down to de-couple Hanzo’s legs.

“Takin’ off yer legs, darlin’ – color?” Jesse pressed as he kneeled down.

“Green, daddy.” Hanzo whispered, as he felt himself sink into the floor. It was hard linoleum, cold, warming up with Hanzo’s body-heat.

“Good, baby.” Jesse gently popped the latches that hid the disconnect mechanisms and pressed down, releasing the magnets that worked with the plating drilled into Hanzo’s bones. He set the prosthetics aside, gently, and prepared himself to treat his baby boy.

Before he got up, Jesse reached a gentle hand up to Hanzo’s face and brushed across his beard, his lips with his thumb – a sense of lightness lifting his spirit at the complete trust this wonderful man was showing him.

“Well, look at you, little darlin, ain’t you just precious.” Jesse drawled as he reached a standing position, looking down at his pretty little husband. He walked around Hanzo in a circle, the archer’s deep brown eyes following him the entire way, before he ended up at Hanzo’s head. He flexed the toes on his right foot before gently placing it on Hanzo’s face, cradling that strong nose between his big and long toe, gently pressing the balls of his foot against Hanzo’s mouth.

“Smell it darlin’, unwashed, just like you said.” Jesse spoke “Now lick it good baby, thank me for takin’ my precious time out to step on your needy self.” Jesse commanded – Hanzo loved being degraded when they played like this. His archer made a noise and soon he felt a warm tongue lap at the sole of his feet. Hanzo wore that harness and nothing else, and as the archer licked, desperately, Jesse paid attention to the archer’s cock, and how nicely it was plumping up.

“Ya like this don’tcha, you filthy lil’ prince.”  Jesse moved his foot a little, grinding it into Hanzo’s tongue.

“Placin’ you on a throne is a waist, ain’t it? All you wanna do is lick feet and get stepped on like a doormat.” The cowboy continued. He heard a muffled noise from under his foot, so he removed it and placed it on Hanzo’s chest, making sure to miss the floating ribs, putting some weight on it. It forced a grunt from Hanzo’s throat.

“What was that, darlin? You disagree?” He prompted.

“No, daddy, thank you for your feet.” Hanzo breathed.

“Grateful little thing, aint’cha,” Jesse remarked as he pressed down harder and moved his foot back and forth, jostling Hanzo like a ragdoll, the ball of his foot fitting right between Hanzo’s sizable pecs.

“And look at that, ya lil’ perv, yer dick is perkin’ up too – all from getting’ stepped on.” Jesse leaned over as he spoke and braced himself on the chair, shifting his weight, before he let his left foot come off the ground – Hanzo groaned, his limbs flailed. Then the cowboy used his left foot to prod at the awakening arousal between Hanzo’s thighs, perfectly framed by the harness, watching it twitch as the archer whimpered and mewled.

“I’m so filthy, daddy.” Hanzo managed to force out.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jesse agreed. He very gently pressed down on Hanzo’s stomach with his left foot, knowing it was a high-risk zone, but he still manipulated the muscles, and felt Hanzo’s guts roll under the balls of his feet. He bounced a little, without actually lifting his feet off the archer, forcing rhythmic grunts from the archer, who flailed at each bounce. The harness felt great under his feet.

“If you had a kingdom all I’d have to do to take it over would be to throw ya on the throne room floor, in front of everyone, and step on you until you cried.” Jesse grinned as he spoke, moving his feet back and forth, jiggling Hanzo, who just groaned, struggling with getting air into his lungs. The cowboy shifted his weight and let his left foot take a little more weight.

“Ahh!” Hanzo got loud like this, and it was a joy, indeed. Jesse felt his own dick strain against his booty shorts, the denim was deliciously restrictive.

“Jesse McCree, king of the world, with the prince as his filthy little doormat.” The cowboy crowed as he played with Hanzo’s cock again – it had gotten even firmer, and Hanzo’s face looked like he’d fallen into rapture.

“Hello, darlin’ this chair right here could be my throne.” Jesse continued. He hopped off Hanzo and sat down on the chair, before roughly putting his feet back on the Archer, one on Hanzo’s face and the other on his dick.

“My personal foot-bath right here,” Jesse sighed as Hanzo began lapping at his filthy toes, moaning. “A little faulty, it’s gotten leaky down at the bottom.” Jesse pressed a big toe down on Hanzo’s cockhead, forcing it into his stomach, smearing his precum around. He then smacked Hanzo’s stomach with the flat of his foot, the noise almost eclipsing the groan Hanzo produced.

“Hey, darlin,” Jesse pretended to look like he’d gotten a great idea, “D’ya think my footbath could clean my cock too,” Jesse removed his foot from Hanzo’s mouth – giving him a chance to answer.

“Yes, daddy.” Hanzo moaned. He looked like he was floating, deep red flush, blotchy and bright, spreading down his sweaty body. His beard was sticky with saliva.

“I’ll not take yer word fer it, filthy doormats don’t give good advice, we gotta test it.” Jesse bent over and reached for Hanzo’s ponytail, tangled his fingers in it and yanked Hanzo into a sitting position in front of the chair. The noise Hanzo made was heavenly, and the archers eyes looked like they were aiming to permanently roll back into his head.

“It’s a good plan, ain’t it. Yer so good at cleaning sweaty feet, you’d probably be good at cleaning sweaty cock too.” He roughly guided Hanzo to sit sideways between his legs, face turned to the side so he could reach Jesse’s cock.

“Color, baby.” Jesse stopped up, fingers still in Hanzo’s hair.

“Green-green-green” Hanzo mumbled, eyes glazed.

“Open up, yer about to have the cleanin’ job of yer life.” Jesse said as he popped the straining button on his booty shorts and fished his hard cock out. Hanzo’s mouth immediately dropped open, and his tongue rested on his lower lip. Jesse scooted forwards on the chair and guided Hanzo’s mouth onto his dick.

“Get it all now, honey, can’t be doin’ a bad job.” Jesse pushed Hanzo forward, roughly fucking into the archer’s mouth, the wet sloppy sounds drowning out Hanzo’s moans. He forced himself further until he felt the back of Hanzo’s throat flutter around the head of his cock – god what a feeling. Jesse got his thoughts together enough to move his foot between Hanzo’s legs. It was a bit awkward to get his sole to press up against Hanzo’s cock and stomach, but the moan that reverbed around Jesse’s cock, all the way up from Hanzo’s core, made it worth it.

“Gag on it.” Jesse commanded as he roughly moved Hanzo back and forth on his cock. And gag, Hanzo did, wet rasping coughs were interspersed with moans and whimpers as Jesse roughed up his sweetheart good. He grabbed his crop top with his free hand and wiped at his forehead with the bottom of it – fuck he was getting sweaty.

“Filthy.” Jesse groaned, he ground his heel against Hanzo’s cock, rubbed it roughly against Hanzo’s own skin. Hanzo couldn’t help it, he shook apart and came all over Jesse’s foot and ankle, moaned around the cock abusing his mouth – and Jesse, who thought his husband was the hottest thing since magma, couldn’t help but follow – he forced Hanzo all the way down his dick and came down his throat, feeling the softening cock pressed against his foot twitch as Hanzo writhed. He wrenched Hanzo off his cock and watched the archer, his ruined, perfect, filthy little archer, take deep, shaky breaths, eyes unfocused and lower face shiny with fluids. That beard would need a good cleaning.

“Color baby?”

“Green, daddy.” Hanzo spoke, he sounded drunk. Jesse _felt_ drunk, Christ that had been good.

“Wanna sit here for a lil’ while or go clean up?” Jesse gently prodded his husband.

“Sit here.” Hanzo leaned against Jesse’s leg and nuzzled at a hairy thigh.

“Allright, honey-bun, we’ll do just that.” Jesse gently removed Hanzo’s hair tie and started combing through the long locks, petting his pretty little prince.

“You were such a good boy.” Jesse praised, and Hanzo just hummed, happily, and let his daddy pet him.          


End file.
